Electrifying Epiphany
by stealacandy
Summary: Harry is upset abour losing his godfather. Then he finds he lost everyone else. With a little help from Industrial Light & Magic, he'll get back at them all. Lies and deciete, mystery and suspence, treachery and bereyal and Severus Snape in a snag. An ele


**Electrifying Epiphany**

By **stealacandy**

**Disclaimer:** JKR may have caused a train-wreck with DH, but now we're stuck with it. Which is why I'm so grateful for fan-fic authors who venture and dare tell us what _really_ happened, the classified, censured version, which, for reasons of public safety, as well as mental health, were kept hidden from us by JKR and co., driving her to create such a mock-believe stupid story instead. So I'm sticking to fan-fiction from now on. (Not that it matters, there aren't going to be any more Harry Potter novels, are they?) The only problem with that, is that JKR, Bloomsburry, Scholastic, Warner Bros. and other big names like that own the rights for Harry Potter and make a lot of money off our backs for selling that lousy stuff, while we, the poor, dashing and daring fanfic writers, remain penniless.

Speaking of sticking stuff, sticking your appendages into high voltage power outlets isn't a very good idea, and is only done by professional and insane power-crazed wizards. Don't try it at home, and if you do, don't blame me. I will not be held accountable for any damage you might cause to yourself. Also, "sticking it to the man" might be a good idea, depending on what you mean when you say "sticking", what is "it" and who is "the man".

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N:** A few days ago I read a post about Harry using "Movie Magic" to defeat the Death Eaters. I took it to mean he'd use all those special visual illusions Hollywood creates to fool and trick the Death Eaters and lead them into traps, or set them to attack each other, or perhaps to fool Voldemort into wasting time and resources on a goose chase for some mysterious power Harry might have acquired, or was about to, which in reality was no more then a fancy light show on the golden screen.

The I read the rest of the post. The author of it had Harry walk into a building, dressed like Neo, and re-enact the scene from the lobby of the agents headquarters in "The Matrix" movie. So I got it that he wanted Harry to playact movie scenes, though for the life of me I couldn't understand why - if Harry waned to spray a bunch of Death Eaters with automatic submachine-guns, he can do just that, he doesn't have to do it in style, and certainly not emulate some movie - after all, movies usually try to emulate reality. In fact, that's the whole point in the Matrix, isn't it? Anyway, even if Harry was inclined to emulate a movie scene, for some unexplainable nebulous reason, where is the "movie magic" in it? Movie magic would mean he's using fake guns and some stuff to create flashes to make it look real - in that case, what would be the point? The Death Eaters would just _Avada Kedavra_ him into oblivion. The author of the post told me Harry's using real guns, and that I didn't get his point, to which I whole-heartedly agree, as even after he tried to explain it, I still don't get it - what the heck does it have to do with movie magic? Anyway, I was about to write some new plot bunny for my "Plot-Bunnies" story, based on the Frantics "I drive in a brown car" song and one of my favourite Harry Potter characters - Lavender Brown, with Ron Weasley this time, but when I sat down to write it, I got another idea, and wrote this story instead. Now, I don't like crossovers much, but two kinds I see too many off and really dislike are Harry Potter / Lord of the Rings crossovers, and Harry Potter / Star Wars crossovers. In fact, I greatly dislike all Star-Wars fan-fiction - all those numerous books they published in the series were bad enough, no need to add to them. I would still sometime read one, however. It so happened, that in the last week or so I came upon no less then three different HP/SW crossover fics, and one even grew on me. Anyway, blame them for me picking Star-Wars as the Movie Harry would copy "movie magic" from.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Electrifying Epiphany**

Harry Potter was all hot and bothered and upset at breaking the mirror Sirius gave him, and at not using it in the first place. So, to cool off a bit, he opened a window, then went to sit on his bed. A lone gasp of wind lifted a piece of parchment into the air from an open drawer in Ron's bedside table and into Harry's face. Harry read it.

"Sexual lubrication charm?" he read. "Why would Ron need that?"

Wondering, he went to put it in Ron's drawer, where he saw a pack of parchment, covered in Hermione's recognizable neat hand-writing. Harry picked it up in a frown. 'What's Hermione writing Ron about?' he thought, '- she has him right here, she can just talk to him!'

He started reading.

"Dear Ron," the letter read

"Last night was wondrous, I really enjoyed our time together.

'Their time together' thought Harry. 'Since when were they together? And why didn't they tell him about it?' He read on.

"Meet me tomorrow night in the Room of Requirement. I'm planning on asking the room for the water bed and a whip again." Harry was going green. 'A whip?'

"Please invite Ginny and Dean to join us."

"What?" screamed Harry. Ginny? And Dean? Together? With Ron? And Hermione? "Has the world gone mad?" he asked himself.

Harry looked up at Dean's bed. His bed sheets were roughed, and a notebook was laying open on the floor by his nightstand. Harry went over to pick it and put it in a drawer. He closed the notebook and was about to put it away, when the caption on the cover caught his eye. It read "Sex Magic, by James Potter and Sirius Black". 'How come Dean has one of my dad's notebooks?' Harry wondered. Incensed, he opened it to take a look. On the inside of the cover, there was a dedication. "Dean, you trouser monster you," it started. "I nicked this from Potter's godfather - don't let him find out. Study it well, and memorize it. I expect to see results!" It was signed, "Love, Ginevra Molly."

Harry dropped the book. 'What on earth is going on here?' he asked himself. He looked into the open drawer by his feet. There was Dean's new golden pocket-watch he would boast about to Seamus. "It's an Afro thing" he said. Harry picked it up. On closer observation, it had what looked like a coat of arms on the outside. Why would a muggle-born have a coat of arm? And a black one, at that? Harry looked closely. A decorative capital-P stood above the coat of arms. He opened the watch. There was an inscription inside, and that's when Harry saw red. The inscription read: "To James, You have a heart of gold, Now you have a watch to match. Love, Lily Evans."

Dismayed, enraged, Harry sat back on his bed. He saw the Hermione's letter he was reading. He took it and continued reading. "When we get the next payment from the Potter vaults from professor Dumbledore," it said, "I will buy myself such a water bed for home." Harry was beyond incensed now. His friends were being paid by Dumbledore? From the Potter vaults? "There are Potter vaults?" he asked.

Harry decided to check out the rest of his roommates. Going over to Neville's bed, he riffled through his drawers. In the top one, lay what appeared to be a half-completed love letter to Lavender Brown. 'Lavender? Really' thought Harry. 'I never knew.' He was ashamed for suspecting Neville and reading his mail. 'Good old Neville, I shouldn't suspect him, he stood by me last week.' he thought. He also thought 'I never knew he had it in him to be so poetic.' when he read the letter. He was about to put it back, when he saw that now, on top of the paper stack in the drawer, was another, much older, parchment. And it was headed: "Dear Lily…". Harry picked it up. If his guess was correct…. Yes, it was a love letter from his father to his mom. Not any love letter, but the same letter Neville wrote Lavender. He only changed her name - and the colour of her eyes, from green to blue. "What the fuck!" Harry yelled. He looked up to see Neville's Mimbelus Mimbeltonia. With seeker reflex, he saw a glimmer of gold from within it. Careful not to set the plant to blow, he extracted what turned out to be a key from the plant-pot. The key was pure gold, and was the shape of a decorative capital letter "P". The same "P", in fact, that adorned Dean's pocket watch. Harry looked it over. It, too had an inscription. It read: "Dear Neville, this is the key to the main Potter country estate we got, and a portkey directly to their greenhouse. Say your father's name to activate it. Love, grandma."

"What the hell?" asked Harry. "Does everyone here have things of mine I never got?" 'And there's a Potter country estate? I never knew!' he thought. 'And does that mean there's a town side house as well? And what's that about it being the "main" one?'

He'd have to think about it later. Right now, there was nothing to it but go over to Seamus Finnegan's bed and check his stuff as well, see if he's on the joke like the others, too. Harry made his way over to the last of his roommates' bed with a heavy heart. Half-heartedly he opened the drawer, to find a thick book with a caption declaring it to be the "Marauder Magical Mix Master Manual", written by "Moony, worm tail, Padfoot and Prongs". Harry opened it. It had many sections: "How to distil Firewhiskey", "How to brew Butterbeer", "Maidenhead Mochitos", "No More a Virgin Mary" and other such stuff. "So," said Harry, "Seamus is in it as well, the bastard. And he thought I'm off my marker! That son of a bitch! And his damn maamm too!"

Harry set back and thought about it. 'What would Sirius have done?' he then got an idea - maybe he could still get to see Sirius, maybe he'd get to speak with him again - then he could just ask him about it. He made his way out of his dorms and Gryffindor Tower on a search for Sir Nicholas.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

On his way to the Great Hall and the End-of-the-Year feast, Harry encountered Luna. Apparently, a lot of her stuff was stolen by her roommates, and she was trying to get it back. 'Welcome to the club.' he thought bitterly. Harry offered to help her, but she politely declined. She had her pride, and would do it on her own.

"And so would I." swore Harry at her retreating back. A plan was budding in his mind. He turned about and made his way to the Room of Requirement. By the time his classmates returned from the feast, all their possessions were returned to the state and position they were in before Harry moved them. Or so it looked like, at least.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry was in the kitchen in No. 4, Privet Drive, and it was the middle of the night. The Dursleys were all deep in their slumber, after consuming some Dreamless Sleep potion he nicked from Madam Pomfrey for his own use. Now he was trying to brew "Draught of the Living Death" over the kitchen stove. So far, his attempts didn't go to well. But at least he didn't blow the kitchen. Then his secret would come out, and the game would truly be over.

"That's got to be one of the most complex potions I ever heard of!" he cried. "What was that bastard Snape asking me about it before I was even introduced to potions in the first time?" The potion truly was complicated to brew, and would have challenged NEWT-level students. Finally, Harry gave up his meagre attempts. 'Looks like I wouldn't get the Dursleys out of my hair fir the time being.' he thought. "Oh well," he sighed. "I've still got some sleeping potion I could give them.

The following night, Harry went into Dudley's bedroom, and sat by his computer. Dudley was peacefully sleeping - with some help from a potion - in his bed, snoring away. 'He really should do something about his weight.' thought Harry.

Harry saw and heard enough about that muggle internet thing and heard Dudley talking about something called pear-to-pear sharing, which didn't make much sense to Harry, but apparently allowed you to download stuff from far away. A little inquiry gave Harry a couple of names, and he quietly sat down to download some things.

A week or so later, Harry crept again to Dudley's computer late at night. Every night he checked the computer, and every night the counter was still only partially there - there were always missing parts and more megabytes to be downloaded. The only mega-bites Harry could think of were Dudley's, after his parents decided to give up on that whole diet thing, but apparently computers had bites as well. Tonight, however, all the things Harry downloaded were completed. Now all Harry had to do was install them.

It was a nightmare!

But, eventually, it was over. Now Harry had Photoshop and Adobe Premier installed in his - err.. Dudley's, that is - computer, and a digital version of a movie called "The Return of the Jedi" Harry watched Dudley watch once, from between the creaks in his cupboard door. Now all Harry had to do was figure how to use them.

Which is why, two days later, found him calling for "Dobby!"

Dobby didn't come. Harry tried again. "Dobby!" he called, and again, and again, but to no avail. Harry sat down, defeated. Then, a thought hit him, and he tried one more time: 'Kreacher!" he called out.

A soft pop sounded, and a bedraggled elf was standing in front of him.

"You raaannnng?" asked the elf, also muttering beneath his breath "Filthy blood-traitor is poor Kreacher's master now. Oh, what would Kreacher's mistress say?"

Harry was quite interested in just that question, in fact.

"Kreacher," he said, "How come I came to be your master?"

"Mistress Blood-traitor son master Sirius died, and left everything he owned to blood-traitor Potter." said the elf. "What can poor Kreacher do?" he muttered.

'I didn't know that!' thought Harry. "Kreacher," he started, "How would you like to help me get back at all the blood-traitors and mudbloods in Grimauld place and get rid of them?"

"Master would do that?" asked the elf, muttering "Kreacher doubts that, he is friends with all the mud bloods."

"Listen, Kreacher." said Harry. "They are not my friends. Not anymore." His face darkened. "Nor have they ever been. They lied to me, Kreacher, lied to me and deceived me, pretending to be my friends, stealing from the Pure, ancient and quite noble house of Potter, and now that I own things from the House of Black, they'll probably steal that, too."

"Oh, what would poor Kreacher's mistress say?" muttered the elf again, under his breath.

"That is why," continued Harry, I want your help. As you are my elf, I order you not to talk about it to anyone, or anything, not to mention me in any way, not to let anyone in anyway know you contacted me. And keep away from any Death Eaters as well, they aren't any better then the mudbloods."

"Master is lying!" said the elf. "Blood-traitor can't fool Kreacher!" the elf muttered, thinking Harry could not hear him.

"And don't ever mutter anything about me to anyone either, Kreacher, and that's an order!" ordered Harry. "As for the Death-Eaters, did you know their master, Lord Voldemort, is nothing more then a mud-blood himself? You Don't believe me, do you? Well, look here:" Harry paused to pick up a piece of parchment and a quill. He wrote down "I am Lord Voldemort" and showed it to Kreacher. Then, in front of the elf, he crossed each letter in turn, not in order, and wrote it again to spell "Tom Marvolo Riddle".

"You see, Kreacher?" asked Harry. "Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort's real name. He told me so himself. And you wouldn't find any pure blood family called Riddle, would you? You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, master." said the elf. For once, he didn't mutter anything.

"That is because there isn't any, of course. Riddle was a muggle family." said Harry. "Lord Voldemort told me himself he was of muggle decent. Said wizards wouldn't follow him if he had a muggle name, so he changed it, back when he was still a student in Hogwarts.

"Master speaks with the Dark Lord?" asked the elf.

"No, Kreacher." sighed Harry. "But I did fight him, and out-fight him nearly every time, because I'm a better wizard then he is, the foul half-breed. But he doesn't believe it, he fooled so many pure-blood wizards and beat them into submission for so long, he became quite arrogant. So he told me his secrets, thinking I was about to die, that he was going to kill me, and I would take those secrets with me to the grave. But he didn't, you see. I beat him, instead, and he ran away. Time and again, the coward ran. And so, I'm the only one who knows he plans to use all the pure-blood wizard to kill each-other, and then rule the magical world with his other half-breed minions, like Fenir Greyback, and that giant whatshisname."

Through all this, Kreacher didn't say a thing.

"Now I want your help, Kreacher," said Harry. "I want you to spy on the blood traitor that sit in my house and plot against me, and report back to me on what you hear. Don't be seen, Kreacher, and don't be heard. If they think I know anything about their plans, they would oblivate me, and I would go back into being a blood-traitor like I was before. Can you do that?"

Kreacher, still in shock, nodded.

"Very good, my Kreacher. But for now, small steps. I want you to take this letter to the Goblins at Gringots. Find a teller that deals with house-elves, give him this letter, and wait for his reply. Then return here, bring me what he gives you, and go back to Grimauld Place." instructed Harry. "When you're there, remember, do not be seen, do not arouse any suspicion, do not mutter anything about me or about what you're doing. Mutter about mud bloods, half-breeds and blood-traitors as much as you like, but don't mention me in any way, and don't get them too angry they would kill you - they might, the mongrels, you know. Don't talk about it to Walburga's portrait either - as much as I appreciate her opinion, she got on with the years before passing away, and her wits are no longer sharp as they used to be - I do not trust her not to let anything slip in a moment of anger at the filth invading our house."

"Mistress won't betray you!" protested the house-elf.

"You don't know that, Kreacher" said Harry sternly. "And she might not intend to. Anyway, she might stop shouting at them and behave in a different way that would arouse their suspicions, and then our plans would be expose, Kreacher. I remind you again - above all, don't let anyone find about you working for me. Now, go to Gringots, Kreacher."

Which is how Harry, a few hours later, became the proud owner of a new muggle bank-account, a check-book and a credit card.

And four days later, a letter bearing a weird request was received at the "Industrial Light and Magic" offices.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry served his uncle his morning tea. Uncle Vernon was reading the Times and muttering something about good for nothing Irish terrorists poisoning themselves to death. Harry caught a glimpse at the caption, it spoke of some Irishmen, most of them known or suspected members of the IRA underground, had been found dead in a privet party, all seemed to have died from poison, mixed by one of their number, a minor who's name wasn't released to the media. The poison, a small caption stated, was yet unidentified.

'Weird' thought Harry, shivering. In the distance, sirens were heard.

Soon, people were knocking on the door. Harry was ordered to open it, and was confronted by Scotland Yard detectives, who asked him to escort them back to their station. As confused Harry was leaving, his uncle Vernon bellowed at him and the crowd gathered to watch. "See! I knew you were a good for nothing freak, you petty criminal. Now you got yourself arrested, huh?"

"I'm sorry, sir," said one of the detectives, "but Mr. Potter is not under arrest, we just need him to help us clarify a little matter."

And so Harry went away with the detectives.

Apparently, they wanted to know why he was paying vast sums of money to one Seamus Finnegan, who turned out to be in cohesion with the IRA. Harry told the investigators, that he honestly didn't know he was. "I don't know how can that be! I don't have a penny to my name!" he said.

"That certainly is not true, Mr Potter, so don't lie to us." said the 'bad' cop. "The records show you to be one of the richest people in the country."

"What?" screamed Harry. "That can't be true! My uncle always said my father was a good for nothing unemployed bum who got himself and my mother killed while driving drunk! He said my parents left me nothing! That's why they wouldn't give me enough food! Or anything worth mentioning to wear! Just look at me!" said Harry, pulling at his humongous shirt. "I'm so short and thin, I have had my growth stampeded by not having enough nutrients - and look at my cloths, do I look like someone rich to you?"

The inspector had to admit the kid had a point there. But - "Your uncle, as well as your aunt and your cousin all got repetitious payments from your accounts as well!" he complained. "Surely they would have used some money to provide for you?"

"What?" yelled Harry again. "They were? My uncle always said the reason he used me for slave labour was that my up keeping was expansive and I had to work for it!"

"What do you mean 'slave labour'" asked his interrogator.

A short phone call later and the tax authorities were involved. A few more calls and a short while later, and one Vernon Dursley, accompanied by one Petunia Dursley and one Dudley Dursley and three police officers, found himself apprehended for embezzlement and tax evasion. As Dudley Dursley took Harry's place at the interrogation room, charges of severe child abuse, neglect and endangerment were soon to follow.

At least, the Dursleys were able to evade charges of supporting terrorism. A short inquiry was all it took to send the Scotland Yard hot on the heels of one Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore.

Harry asked for a full transcript of any activity his accounts ever had. When he received them, he wasn't pleased. 'And that's on the muggle-side only,' he thought. 'Merlin knows what they did with my wizarding finances.'

"well, Harry," said the nice bobby, "we're sorry for all the mess. What are you going to do now? Can we do anything for you?"

"Well," started Harry slowly, "Once the Judge signs the emancipation papers, I think I would like to take a vacation, travel a bit, you know. I never had a day's vacation in my life! I never been anywhere, for that matter. If it's not Little Whining, King's Cross and Charring Cross stations in London, my school and the village in Scotland, and now this station, I haven't been there. So, inspector, do you think I could get a passport? With your help, I could maybe get one quick enough so that I could still salvage something of these holidays and make a vacation out of it."

"Sure thing, sport," said the man. "We can do that."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Dear Mr. Potter," the letter began,

"We have finished the video-clip you asked for. Inside the Green envelope you would find two video-cassettes with copies of the finished product. We hope your party is a success. We expect the rest of the payment in…"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Well, Hermione," the letter continued, "so I found a way to utilize the dark magic of the Sith to steal power away from muggle electricity and use it to torment my enemies. That is one power I have, that the Dark Lord knows not. I included a Pensieve memory of myself torturing a…"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"I would like to come to Grimuald place to further discuss this with the Order, professor." the letter concluded. "Please arrange for my arrival. Hermione Granger."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Goodbye, grandma." said Neville, as he grabbed the portkey that would take him to his beloved greenhouse. "Frank!" and he disappeared.

If Augusta Longbottom felt any guilt at robbing the Potter estates like that, she hid it well. After all, it was the Potters' fault she needed money in the first place. If it wasn't for them defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the first place, the three Lastranges and Crouch wouldn't have gone hunting Aurors for answers. And the medical bill their treatment incurred was ever so large. And she was accustomed to a certain level of lifestyle and intended to maintain it - and she couldn't be expected to go out and work for her livings, could she Not her, not someone of her stature, nor of her late age. 'Serve him well, the Potter brat,' she thought. 'taking my grandchild, the last of the Longbottoms, on his reckless adventure, endangering his life like that, breaking his nose, nearly killing him, and getting my Frank's wand broken.'

Somewhere in the Pacific, a kid dressed in a robe appeared in mid air and, screaming at the head of his lungs, plunged to his death - into an active volcano's aperture.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The order of the Phoenix was gathered in the kitchen in Grimauld place. Non of them, not even Albus Dumbledore with his sharp eyes, nor Remus Lupin with his keen werewolf senses, nor Alastor Moody with his magical eye replacement, and not even Severus Snape with his sixth sense for spotting trouble, especially if it involves anyone with the surname of "Potter" noticed a house-elf observing them from the shadows, eyes narrowed, ears drawn.

"Harry Potter wrote miss Granger about a magic ritual that involves a spell his father and the late Sirius Black created," started Albus Dumbledore, "supposedly as a sexual lubricant, that in fact is used for several sexually-charged, based or oriented magical rituals and is the basis for this power increasing ritual he found about. I wanted to know if anyone here knows anything about such spell?"

'What is he talking about?' thought Remus Lupin. He knew what charm Dumbledore was talking about. Heck, he helped create it himself in the first place! But what the headmaster said was a load of tosh, the charm was no less and no more then what its name implied - a sexual lubrication charm - to, well, lubricate your sex-related organs, in preparations, well, of sex.

He was about to tell Dumbledore that, when Ron Weasley spoke up.

"I know that spell," he said. "I got it right here." he took a crumpled parchment from his pocket. Once he learned Hermione was coming, he was looking up to some quality time alone with her. Now Hermione was trying not to blush, a fact that didn't miss Remus's notice.

'Since when these two are together?' he wondered. 'And they are already using sexual lubricant?'

"Ron?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "Why do you have a parchment with a… a… with _that_ spell on it in your back pocket?" she demanded.

Arthur, her husband, tried to calm her down. "Now, Molly," he started, but -

"Don't Molly me, Arthur! I want to know what my son is up to!" she said very loudly. Turning to Ron, she added, "Well, young man?"

"I got it from Ginny!" he blurted, trying to defend himself.

'Way to go Harry!' thought Remus. 'The boy is moving fast, it seems.'

Ginny gave Ron a glare. "Traitor" she mouthed.

But her mother already turned around on her.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, what are _you_ doing with such a spell?"

"Well, I gave a book about love magic to my boyfriend," she started explaining.

'Wait, _she_ gave it to _her_ boyfriend?' frowned Remus. 'Not the other way around? Then it means it's not Harry!' And that spell was only in one book, Remus knew. So what was she doing with it in the first place? Something was wrong here.

"I didn't particularly know what's inside, did I?" continued Ginny. Only later I found it dealt with magic used for sexual intercourse, mom. And what Dean shared with my brother over there," she pointed at Ron, sending a vicious glare at the lanky redhead, "is his business, not mine, mom."

'Her boyfriend is Mr. Thomas, then?' thought Remus, straining his mind, thinking back to the year he taught at Hogwarts, trying to figure who exactly "Dean" was. 'What was she doing giving this kid James's notebook?' Last he saw it, Padfoot was going to give it to Harry before his big date on Valentine's Day. He was going to ask her, but professor Dumbledore, seeing Molly Weasley about to go on a tirade, cut her off early and said:

"Molly, you can discuss these matters with your children later, when we are not all around, I'm sure you would rather have your privacy then." Turning to Ron, he asked "Now, Mr. Weasley, can I please borrow that parchment of yours?"

Ron hesitated, then thought better of it. "Err… sure, professor." he said, and passed the crumpled parchment on.

"Now," continued Dumbledore, "I fear the ritual Harry did is not what you and I would call benevolent," he said with a heavy sigh. "And he put the powers he received from it to use. I'm afraid to say Harry Potter has gone Dark!"

Shouts and yells of dismay came from every direction. "Bullocks", wanted Remus to say, but decided something was wrong in that picture. Instead, he kept his silence, and listened on.

When order was finally restored, Dumbledore continued. "I am afraid his godfather's demise has rather unsettled young Harry. He sent Miss Granger over there - " he inclined his head to Hermione, who rose briefly from her seat and courtside, "a Pensieve memory, showing him torturing some kid. If you'll bear with me, I would like to share it with you all."

In short order, the members of the Order all watched in horror as memory Harry Potter let a multitude of lightning bolts out of his bare hands, and on to his victim, who was rolling on the floor in pain, clad in a strange bathrobe.

Remus was laughing inside. Really, how gullible did they think he was. He recognised the scene immediately - it was from George Lucas's Star Wars movie saga, the last part, "Return of the Jedi", when the evil emperor tortured the young Jedi knight, Luke Skywalker, when the later wouldn't join him. Only his faced was somehow replaced by Harry's. Remus thought about telling the Order about it, but decided that if Harry wanted to prank the Order, it was up to him. The kid sure could do with some laugher once in a while. 'And so could I.' he thought. It must be Harry's way to honour Sirius's memory and legacy, he thought.

When the meeting was later adjourned, no one noticed a house-elf sneaking out of the room. Kreacher was deep in thought. That was a truly amazing piece of magic his master had shown. He had done himself well, yes he did. Not even the Dark Lord could master such awful power!

No one noticed Severus Snape either. He was thinking along the same lines as Kreacher did. Not even the Dark Lord could do that. With that power, the Dark Lord would be in danger from Potter, the brat. If he could learn how to do it, his master would reward him greatly. Thus, with his superb spying abilities, no one in the Order noticed when he slipped the letter Potter sent the mudblood into his pocket.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Master," said Snape. "Potter has found a ritual that gives him an immense boost of power. I have here the details, and I can share a memory with you of a demonstration - if you can get me a pensive, my lord."

"Forget a pensive, Severus," said the Dark Lord, "_Legilmens!_" he said, pointing his wand at his spy, who cried "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Interesting." said Lord Voldemort. 'I have got to get this power myself.' he thought. 'That way I will circumvent that bloody prophecy…' "Severus", he said, "You said you got the details of the ritual?"

"Yes, my lord." said the potion-master.

"Well," demanded his master, "What are you waiting for, hand them over! _Crucio!_"

Snape handed Harry's notes to his master, and Voldemort read them over, and again. 'Blast!' he thought. I don't have the equipment!'

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

In his office, Albus Dumbledore thought about the ritual Harry went through. The power he showed was remarkable - one that had to be his! He'd have to do the same ritual. Only he hadn't been much functional for decades.

'Never mind,' he thought, 'I'd just have to use the "homo-erectus" spell.' He mused things over.

"Now, to get erect, I need a homo. Where will I find one? Perhaps I should screw Harry?" he said. "What do you think, Fawks?"

The phoenix chirmed a little trill.

"Nope? I screwed Harry all his life, why not now? Then again, his power is immense, it'll be better not to anger him until I get that same power myself. And memory charms only go so far. Oh!" he exclaimed. "I know! I would use Severus!"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

'Then again,' thought Lord Voldemort, 'I do know a spell to conjure functional appendages - like that hand I gave Wormtail.' Now, all that was left for him to decide, was what to do it in. 'Silver? No, Fenir might not appreciate it too much. And a silver tongue I heard about, but a silver Penis? Well, if you call it a Silver Pistol, or Silver Gun, maybe, but it sounds too much muggly… mugglyish… muggleish… err, muggle-like, it won't do. Gold, perhaps? Go a bit grand? But no, gold is a soft metal, that won't do either, what would my Death Eaters think if they learn I have soft-balls?' he thought about it. "I know! I'll use iron. Then it could be said that Lord Voldemort has a pair of Iron Balls.' He liked the sound of it.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Phew," huffed Ginny, as she stepped outside the fireplace. "I finally got away from my mom. What were you thinking when you gave that spell to Ron?"

"Well, you see," stammered Dean, "I-"

"Oh, never mind, lets go to bed." said Ginny.

As the two of them got their cloths off, Dean tool out his book and went through the instructions for his lubrication charm. Ginny wanted to remain a virgin for some reason, so it was sorely needed.

"Still haven't mastered it yet?" she complained.

"No, Sorry luv." he said.

He read the instructions twice, then pointed his wand at his penis and started incantating. "_Malato pesce brutto!_"

Ginny heard him, and thought it was strange. 'I could swear it sounded differently last time' she thought.

A couple of minutes passed, and nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's the right spell?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, luv, that is it." said Dean.

"And you're sure you did it right?"

"Well," said Dean, opening the notebook again, "let me see here… Yes, I did it right!"

"Well then," said Ginny, "Do it again."

"Okay." said Dean, and repeated the spell from before.

Another minute and nothing happened.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" cried Ginny in exasperation. "Give it here!" she grabbed the notebook from his hands. Reading the spell through, she took Dean's wand (hers wasn't warded not to be detected by the Ministry of Magic in this household - she was sure professor Dumbledore would do it, too, if she asked, but she didn't care much for her mother to find out and wonder what magic did she use here - especially after finding out already about her "love-magic" spell book.) and cast the charm at his penis. Still, nothing seemed to happen. She tried again.

A moment later, however, to their horror, Dean's penis started turning black. Blacker, that is. Pitch-black. Rot-black. And it started to shrivel. And It hurt.

"Aaahhhh!" cried Dean in pain. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" As they haven't put up the silencing charm around the room yet, Dean's muggle mother came barging in - and came to an abrupt stop when she saw the way her son - and his girlfriend (or at least she hoped she was) were clad. Then she realised her son was screaming (and he still was. Screaming, that is) in pain, not in pleasure.

"Oh, Deanky, what happened to you?" she asked. Dean's penis was nearly all gone now, black and limo like a rotten banana, and it was beginning to spread to his testicles.

"Sharon!" cried Mr. Thomas, "Call emergency service!"

"No!" yelled Ginny, coming out of her stupor. "They can't find about magic! And they couldn't help anyway - it's a magical problem!"

"Then what we do?" asked Dean's mom. "Don't you people have doctors?"

"Yes we do," said Ginny. "Lets take him to St. Mungo's." she said, putting her robes back on. Luckily, they had a Floo-network connection. However, after Ginny demonstrated to Dean's mom how to use it, they ran out of powder. In St. Mungo's, when Dean hasn't arrived, she alerted the healers, and one of them flooed back with her. Then they discovered, too, they were out of Floo-powder, and so the Healer had to apparate back to the hospital, grab some powder and go back. By the time Dean was finally settled in a hospital bed, the rot had spread to his legs. But it was no big deal, it's an Afro thing, you know. Bad conditions, no healthcare, little education for hygiene, they suffer so much down in Africa,

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Lord Voldemort finished his conjuration job. It really was a blow. Now, he had to test it. He looked to see who was around. "Severus!" he called his servant. "Over here!"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Severus Snape was not amused. It really wasn't his day, today. But Albus Dumbledore certainly was. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much in years. 'I really should indulge myself more.' he thought.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Lord Voldemort was in high spirits as he made his way into a muggle transformer post. He looked around for the outlet, found it and unplugged the covers protecting it. Then he got undressed.

"Right." he said. "Now, how did that spell go? Let me see… Ah! _É molto olio!_" cast the Dark Lord, wand pointed at his new iron appendage. "Ahhh," sighed Lord Voldemort, "That's cool." Lord Voldemort went to the test power outlet and stuck the his new body-enhancement inside.

Iron and sexual lubricants turned out to be quite the conduit, as Lord Voldemort was hit by watts upon watts, of electricity, mega-Amperes and whatnot, literally electrifying himself to death.

It also turned out that Lord Voldemort's new, resurrected body, was dependent on his life force and the magic it carried with it to sustain itself. Once Voldemort passed away, his physical body quickly deteriorated into blood and gore and potion ingredients. Then it, too, vanished. Only Voldemort's new conjured iron appendage remained behind.

But before that all happened, Voldemort's body was fighting for its life and its very existence. As it was overwhelmed with power, it looked for ways to let it out - and found one such way. The Dark Mark, serving the Dark Lord to transfer some magical energies from himself onto his followers and translate it to pain. Now it was sending waves of electric currents instead through the magical link and into the Death Eaters' systems.

Harry Potter never considered that might happen, and never thought of the link between himself and the Dark Lord. If he did, he might not have done things the way he did, or at least have arranged for a constant earth grounding for himself. Fortunately, the thought never crossed his mind. Also fortunately, it didn't matter, That link was between two minds, even two souls. It may have transferred feelings, emotions, and bits and pieces of information, but energy, it did not. And so Harry was hardly affected by Voldemort's torment, other then a little pulsing pain in and around his scar, nothing some Tylenol couldn't deal with, feeling tension he didn't know existed relieve itself once Voldemort was gone.

All over the country, marked Death Eaters fell on their knees in pain. Some got the full blow of the electric energy, and were electrocuted themselves. Those who didn't fry to death had heart failure and other lethal maladies. Others only got the pain, but it was so immense, and so overwhelming, nearly all of them snapped from it, their minds gone forever. Bellatrix Lastrange was one of those. She would later end up in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, in the long-term mental-damage ward, alongside her former victims, Frank and Alice Longbottom.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

In Malfoy manor, Lucius was busy doing his thing. The little muggle boy he kidnapped was yelling in pain. Then they were both engulfed with sparks of static electricity. 'Good to know I still have the spark.' was Malfoy's last coherent thought. Then the yells _really_ start.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

In Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry, in the headmaster's office, Severus Snape was emanating sparks. He was also yelling in pain, but that was old news. Then, with a gasp, and a sigh, he went silent, and rigid.

Albus Dumbledore has dabbled in Necromancy in his youth, and briefly considered using it now, for animating the mood in the room… then thought better of it. It was complex, and it was a long time ago, he wasn't sure he remembered it all, and it wasn't really worth it. While he prefer them a bit more lively, he didn't really mind necrophilia, and at his age they didn't tend to move much, after all.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry gave one last look to No. 4, Privet Drive of Little Whining in Surrey, then took out a key from his pocket. He was about to say "Frank", when he saw Remus Lupin coming his way. Instantly on his guard, he took his wand out, and pointed it at the werewolf.

"What do you want, professor?" he asked.

"Harry?" asked Remus. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be inside the house? And where are your guards?"

"Well," started Harry, "My guard just dropped dead in a shower of sparks, the other went away to call for help. Now, I don't have time, professor. Would you give me your oath you're loyal to me and never betrayed me to anyone before? Nor would you ever again?"

"Why, I - " stammered Remus.

"I don't have time for this, professor. Do you swear, or do I leave you here?" demanded Harry.

"Alright, I will swear."

"Good." said Harry once Remus gave him his oath. "Hold onto this." he said, presenting the key to his father's last surviving friend. "Frank!" he said, and with a little gasp of sudden wind, they were both gone from the place.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

After leaving his country house, Harry made two stops before leaving on vacation. The first, was to visit Kreacher. The elf has assembled a collection of magical artefacts he saved from Sirius trying to throw them away. One of them gave Harry an idea. He left Kreacher with instructions, then left to call on the girl he once considered, until recently, his best friend in the world, Hermione Jane Granger.

"You know, I found something interesting about you."

The voice woke Hermione from a sound sleep and her hand shot towards her wand. "Who's there?" She demanded.

"It's me," the voice said. "Your friend Harry . . . and I found something interesting about you."

"What is it?" She asked nervously, she couldn't find her wand and she was acutely aware that she was helpless. This wouldn't normally be a problem, normally she'd be the first to tell you that Potter was  
harmless . . . that she'd be safe with him. But something about his manner was . . . odd.

"I learned that you've been telling Dumbledore about me," Harry said calmly. "That you've betrayed me."

"But he's Dumbledore," Hermione protested weakly. "He just wants what's best for you."

"Now now Hermione," Harry mocked. "You know better then that, care to try again?"

"He said it was for the greater good," Hermione sobbed. "He said it would all be for the best."

"You really think that it's ok to ruin someone's life because of the greater good?" Harry asked calmly, much too calmly. "To make choices for them, to make them your tool for the greater good."

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione wailed. "So sorry."

"Oh don't give me that, I read your letters to Ron!"

Hermione visibly paled.

"And I know about the money, too." said Harry. "Anything you want to own to, Hermione?"

"He said it was for the best."

"Should I take that as a yes then?"

"Yes," Hermione said harshly.

"Then own to this, Hermione. Do you remember our first year? When Ron and I saved you from the troll?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed. She felt a tiny flicker of guilt for betraying the boy who had saved her life. "I do."

"Excellent, then tell me; do you think you would have survived if we had not intervened?"

"No." Hermione drooped a little. "I don't."

"Then you won't contest the fact that you owe me a life debt," Harry said grandly.

"You and Ron," Hermione said, hesitantly. The girl was flinching at every word that came out of her supposed friend's mouth.

"Surprised you don't know this one," Harry's voice took on a lecturing tone. "As you were saved as a result of my actions and as Ron was there at my suggestion, Not to mention that it was somewhat because of Ron that you ended up being in danger in the first place, your life debt belongs to me and me alone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good, very good. Can you tell me what I can demand of you because of the debt you owe me?"

"Anything," Hermione said. "Any one act, even if it would result in my death." The girl's voice calmed, she had begun to accept her fate.

"Correct," Harry said proudly, as if he were a teacher shining praise on a particularly bright student. "But don't worry, I don't plan to ask for anything that would harm you."

"You don't?" She asked with growing hope.

"Of course not," Harry said quickly. "I am your friend after all, even if you did treat that friendship . . . . well, we've already gone over that."

"Yes Harry," she said in a subdued tone.

"All I require is that you assist me in a ritual," Harry explained. "One that will not result in your death or in any physical harm. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good," Harry said firmly. "Read this, tell me when you've mastered your part."

Hermione spent several minutes reading over the paper before recoiling in horror. "Harry . . . but this . . . "

"Will make you my slave, yes," Harry agreed coldly. "Don't worry, it's for the greater good after all."

"But . . ."

"Shoe's a bit different when it's on the other foot?" He gave a cold cruel laugh. "You should have thought of that before, now read."

When Hermione finished reading, she performed the ritual, and was bound to Harry's will.

"Now, listen carefully. This is what I want you to do…"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

When Hermione returned, she brought Harry a ferret, and a pug. A fuzzy white ferret, with an cute, angry-looking expression and demeanour, and a black-furred pug that looked to be in disgrace.

"I found the pug with the ferret, so I brought it along." offered Hermione in a way of explanation.

"Great," said Harry. "Now, to the other part - "

"Right," said Hermione in apprehension, and pointed her wand at herself.

Soon, the white ferret and the black pug were joined by a brown beaver. With bushy fur.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Albus Dumbledore made his way into the muggle electric transporters post. He looked around, only to see a small pile of ashes. 'Must be a muggle thing.' he thought. He searched for the testing power outlet, and find it right near the ash pile. He took out the plug and looked it over. It was strangely shaped, and reminded Albus of human male genitalia, for some reason. Well, I know where it goes, now. He turned to start the ritual. He took the parchment he got from young Ron Weasley from the pocket, read it several times over, then lifted his ornate purple and yellow robes up. He wore nothing underneath, he always liked the feeling of air refreshing his privet bits, as well as the freedom of movement it allowed him. Pointing his wand at his penis, he cast "_É molto olio_". 'Ah,' he thought, 'that felt nice.'

As he was about to begin the ritual, Albus heard noises. He looked around to see many muggles barge in, running, looking at him in shock and amazement. 'Damn,' he thought. 'now I have to oblivate them all and send them away. I'll never get to that damn ritual! Damn damn damn!' He picked up his wand and waved it at the first muggle to approach him, only to find he picked the muggle genitalia-shaped iron plug instead.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry walked into the room and bowed slightly to the creature inside. The hippogriff, for that is what the creature was, bowed back, and sniffed the air.

"Oh, you're a clever boy," said Harry, "aren't you? You like ferrets, don't you? Well, this one is not for eating, I'm afraid to say, Beaky."

The hippogriff, half horse, half eagle, gave him the evil eye.

"Oh, for crying out loud," complained Harry, "I can't give you that ferret! No, I can't! Don't look at me that way. Oh, hell. You know what? Bugger it all. You want the ferret? Catch it then." Harry said and heaved the ferret into the air in a steep arc.

With a great leap, Buckbeak the hippogriff jumped into the air, and caught the trembling ferret with his beak. A few minutes later and the chewy ferret went down the hippogriff throat and to his belly.

"Oh, well," sighed Harry in exasperation. That's one less pet I have. Now, Beaky," he started. The hippogriff hiccupped. "I am going to Australia for a while, and I can't take you with me - or these pets of mine - on a muggle airplane. So I need to ask you, do you think you could fly to Australia and meet me there? Would you know your way? Would you last the journey? Australia is rather far, you know."

The hippogriff, however, seemed unfazed.

"Well, you know yourself better then anyone." said Harry. "Now, I want you to promise me, no eating the pug and the beaver, Okay?"

Buckbeak didn't seem too agreeable to that.

"O…kay…" said Harry. "No sending them with you. Or is it both of them? Just one? Look, Beaky, they are my pets, and even if, on a personal level, you find them better on a plate then on your back, I still don't want to lose them, okay? Please? Would you carry them for me?"

The hippogriff glared at him for a moment, then relented and bowed his head.

"Great!" said Harry, and tied the animals to the hippogriff's back, and encorced it with multiple sticking charms. He also stuck some animal food for them to eat. "Now, I want you both on your best behaviour. No bothering each other, and no bothering Buckbeak, Understood? Good. Off you go, Beaky," said Harry, slapping the hippogriff on his horsy behind. "See you in Sidney!"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry Potter strolled around in Heathrow, buying stuff he might need on his vacation. He bought some swimming trunks, some sun lotion, a lot of condoms, a few of books, a couple of tour guides for Australia, and a collection of how-to books ("How to surf", "How to drive", "How to parachute" and "How to get five goddesses into your bed") He kept one pack of condoms in his pocket. If those stories he heard about the Jet Club were true…

In passing, a news report in the paper stand caught his eye, so he bought the paper and sat down to read it while waiting for his flight. The article read: "Insane old cross-dressing hippy with ties to IRA sabotages power transmition post, causes a black-out in large parts of London. Albus Dumbledore, wanted for embezzling funds to support IRA activity, was caught red handed sabotaging the transporters at the station. 'He was half naked,' says police officer John Kirby who was first to apprehend the criminal, 'exposed from the waist down, holding his dress up, and he tried to assault me with a metallic dildo.' Mr. Dumbledore is facing criminal charges, but Edmund Jenkins, court appointed attorney to Mr. Dumbledore says his client would plead insanity. Given his eccentric behaviour, the court is likely to rule in his favour…"

Harry stopped reading, and put the paper down. Then he started laughing, laughing like he never laughed before.

A few days later, after a hasty trial, Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore was admitted at a closed mental hospital. His mad babblings and insane innuendoes lead the team of psychiatrists assigned to his treatment to fall back on methods that lost their popularity in the last decade or so.

Albus Dumbledore finally got his chance to be electrocuted.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Augusta Longbottom was in a foul mood. Her grandson Neville portkeyd away a few weeks ago, and was never seen or heard since. She apparated over to the Potter country house, but he wasn't there. She searched the grounds, questioned the house-elves of the staff, but no one have seen him for quite a while. She filed a missing person complaint with the Department of Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic, but due to circumstances was forced to remain vague on the details, thus rendering the Aurors' job of tracking him down nearly impossible, as they had no idea where to begin the search. And now, a couple of weeks later, she couldn't even gain entry into the Potter land anymore. After some shouting and yelling, an house-elf popped over to see what she wanted. When she demanded entry, the elf sniggered at her. The elf! Sniggering! At her! The elf popped away, and soon that horrible werewolf, Lupy or something, came to greet her and asked what her business in Potter House was. She demanded to see Neville and that the werewolf leave the property, but the blasted monster fainted not knowing a thing about her grandson's whereabouts, and told her he was at the Potter estate at the invitation of the owner, which is more then he could say about herself. Augusta Longbottom paled. She was the owner! Unless, unless…

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Ginny Weasley paced in her cell. Her family and herself were apprehended by the Ministry of Magic for stealing from the boy who lived. Now they were all in Ministerial custody, in holding cells. Pending investigation and maybe a trial. A soft screech sounded behind her, and Ginny turned around to see - a small package was left on the floor, with a note saying "G.M. Weazley" on top, in a loopy hand-script. She picked the note, turned it around and read "This is a portkey that would take you to freedom. Rub it three times while saying "Canary Creams". It would remove you from the Aurors' custody. A.W.P.B.D."

'I knew Dumbledore would come through for us!' thought Ginny, who hurried to open the package, to find an ancient-looking golden lamp inside. She thought she might have seen it before in No. 12, Grimauld place. 'A strange thing to use for a portkey,' she thought. Then again, if a teakettle, why not a lamp? But a golden one? She chucked it to Dumbledore's eccentricity. "Oh, well," she said, and bent to rub the lamp. "Canary Creams". As soon as she rubbed the lamp, Ginny was whisked away, pulled by her navel - into the lamp? And the lamp portkeyd away.

Outside Ginny's cell, a house-elf muttered to himself "One less blood-traitor, plenty more to go."

Over in his Australian beach-house, Harry got his Ginny-lamp back.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Augusta Longbottom made her way into St. Mungo's hospital long-term mental damage ward with a heavy heart. How was she supposed to tell her son and his wife that their only son disappeared? For the first time in her life, she was glad they didn't remember him. Unfortunately for her, Frank Longbottom chose this exact moment in time to start remembering.

As she made her way through the ward, she couldn't help but notice the increase in occupied beds in the place. She looked around her. Unless she was much mistaken, "All of them are Death Eaters!" she gasped in realization. And there - and there was Bellatrix Lastrange. "Of all the evil people!" she cried. Pointing her wand at the unresponsive bitch, err… witch, that is, she said "_Avada Kedavra!_". A green light came out of her wand and shot at the deranged woman, killing her instantly.

"Ma'am," said a rusty voice from behind her. "You can't just go and murder patients in this hospital with unforgivable, and in front of an Auror, on top of it!"

Augusta turned slowly. Yes, she was correct. "Frank!" She shouted "Frank, oh Frank. My Franky!" she stumbled over to him and tried to capture him in a hug.

"Now, ma'am," said her son, "don't go and add assault of an Auror as well to your crime. Now, whree is my wand? I'm afraid I must put you under arrest. I can see you are quite old, and probably not right in the head, but you are under arrest for murder. You may remain silent, but it won't do you any good. Anything you say could be used against you in court, but we'll use magic to get you to say anything you have to hide. You…"

Augusta was panicking. That was certainly not how she ever envisioned her reuniting with her beloved son. She dreamt about it for years, but having her attempt to arrest her for murder wasn't a part of that dream. So she did the only thing she could think of. Pointing her wand at her son, she said "_Oblivate!_" but her son, who decided to take a step towards her, didn't take the atrophied muscles in his legs into consideration, and as his legs buckled under him, he fell down in a painful yell. Which was lucky to him, as the memory charm passed above his head and went on to hit the woman laying on the bed beside his.

His shouts, coupled with the light show, brought a couple of orderlies, a healer and a St. Mungo's security wizard barging into the room.

"What's going on here, then?" asked one of the newcomers.

"That woman," said Frank, pointing at his mother. "She just obligated that woman over here - " he pointed at his wife, "Killed that woman back there," he pointed at the late Bellatrix Lastrange "with an unforgivable, no less, and when I tried to arrest her, she assaulted me."

"Is that true?" asked the security wizard.

"Oblivated?" mouthed the healer. 'I can't believe it!' he thought. 'That foul woman!'

In short order, Aurors were summoned, and Augusta Longbottom was arrested for murder, as well as keeping her son and her daughter in law in their mental condition, using memory charms, and, pending investigation, was warned she might face charges of murder of her grandson as well. To drive the last nail in the coffin, on her way out, Gilderoy Lockhart, the ludicrous wizard in his dandy transfigured hospital robes, offered to sign her bra if she spanked him again. The Aurors took note of that, and added charges of sexually harassing the helpless patients of the long-term mental-damage ward.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Harry got other things in Australia. The Daily Prophet, for example. Two days ago, it told about Fudge trying to claim Death-Eater funds for the Ministry - at least that's what he told the public. He took special interest in the vast Malfoy fortune. "Draco Malfoy, missing and presumed dead, along with his longstanding girlfriend Pugsly Parkinson" - that earned a laugh from Harry was declared dead by the Minister. The way now open for claiming the Malfoy assets."

Then, yesterday, the paper wrote: "Goblins refuse to let Minister Fudge gain the Malfoy fortune. 'According to the inheritance laws, which are your wizarding laws more so then they are our,' said a Gringots Bank spokesgoblin 'the properties, possessions and moneys of both Malfoy and Lastrange families - as well as a few others - belong to the head of the Black family. We already had to pay him a lot of money in compensation for letting many wizards steal from his accounts with us, when other ministry officials interfered with our proceedings and forced or bribed their way into possessing his assets. We are not going to tell you what we are going to do to those wizards when we catch them, but a goblin who worked with them has already paid for it - with blood.' When asked about keeping contact with the infamous Sirius Black, the goblin said, 'We in Gringots Bank serve all our customers with discretion - even those in the ministry. As for the late Mr. Black - he was murdered a month ago by Death Eaters while trying to protect the Ministry of Magic, the same ministry which prosecuted him for no crime on his part, imprisoned him for years on with out giving him the opportunity to defend himself in a courtroom, and later ordered his execution on sight, even though, since the day he was apprehended fourteen years ago, there was never any evidence brought forth to indicate he broke any law or committed any crime.' The goblin refused to further elaborate on that. Returning to the issue at hand, when asked what would the goblins do if Minister Fudge would press the issue, the spokesgoblin said - if the Minister of Magic wants to break the treaties the \ministry has with us, we would happily revolt.' threatened the goblin. With an evil grin, it added "Then we could all have a party and eat some Fudge. Now, we don't want to appear uncooperative with the Ministry. The magical government has gone through a great upheaval, with all those who used to provide the high-ranking ministry officials with the means to maintain their high-standard of living dead and gone, we understand that they are all in great need for funds. To help matters along, and as Fudge is so interested in Malfoy money, we are prepared to release to the public - pending the owner's permission - a full, detailed account of their finances - to help trace their money and collect it, should we reach an agreement with the ministry about it.' We here at the Daily Prophet hope the matter would be settled with out bloodshed and that we could continue doing our shopping without fear of strikes and rebellions in the near future."

Harry read the story, and immediately sent Hedwig with a note telling the goblins to go ahead and publish what they wanted - and send him a copy, too - of all his possessions and accounts - and all the activity they had in the last couple of decades.

Today, the daily prophet arrived, telling Harry how "Fudge Investigated! In an astounding move, Gringots Bank goblins released to the public the accounts of the Malfoy family fortune, as well as some others, relatively minor ones. The accounts contained detailed lists of bribes and other monetary gifts to high-ranking Ministry officials from a wide range of nearly all Ministry of Magic departments, as well as members of the Wizangamot. The largest bribes of all, it seems, were accepted by none other then Cornellius Fudge himself, our esteemed Minister of Magic. If this is true, it shed a new light on ministry conduct in past years, and the picture painted is not pretty…"

Harry sighed, as he put the paper down. Life certainly took a turn to the worst for his old enemies.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Dear Miss Brown" wrote Remus.

"I am writing on behalf of Mr. Potter, who asked me to inform you he had found, in his country home greenhouse, a couple of half-finished love letters addressed to you, copied from letters his father James wrote to his mother Lily, as well as a list of ingredients to be collected from the greenhouse, all necessary for brewing a love potion.

"Mr. Potter is very much interested in finding out who have been using his greenhouse without his permission or knowledge. We would both appreciate any information you can share with us to shed light on that mystery.

"To send us this information, pleas contact either myself, at the Potter country estates, or Mr. Harry Potter himself, at the Potter Australian Summer retreat.

"I thank you for your cooperation in that matter,

Remus J. Lupin"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Cornelious Fudge was not facing a promising future. So, in order to curry favour he offered to become a state witness. He didn't expect his offer to be taken, only to exchange some small favours and courtesies in return for him naming criminals and culprits and testifying against them. Which is why, when to his great surprise, Amelia Bones, the head of DMLE he inherited from Minister Bagshot, accepted his offer, on the condition he make it worth it, he was ever so eager to provide a full confession, and went on to incriminate so many others with in the Ministry of Magic as well as the highest levels of society.

A full third of the Ministry employees were charged with one crime or another, and at the very least faced dishonourable discharge as well as heavy fines, which served to replenish the Ministry's depleted money vaults. Over a third of the surviving Wizangaot members were implicated and were forced to abdicate before charges were brought against them Cornelius Fudge was given a (relatively) small amount of money that was taken from the vaults that were once his - with full cooperation from the smirking goblins - the blasted monsters couldn't cooperate with him the same way, the evil blighters - and sent to exile in a secluded home in New Zealand, - which is where Harry found him a week later, on his way back from taking a trip in the wilderness

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Parvati Patil was still holding her friend Lavender Brown, trying to comfort her in her distress over her missing boyfriend. So far she was inconsolable. But now the blond witch stopped heaving and crying. Now she was shaking in rage. Clutching the letter in her hands, she shouted: "Stolen love letters? Love potions? The creep! The bastard!"

"What are you on about, Lav?" asked Parvati.

"Here, read this." said Lavender, thrusting the letter in her hands. While she was reading, she thought she heard her friend say something along the lines of "Oh, Harry, you're ever my knight in shining armour." but she wasn't sure.

By the time Parvati finished reading, she shared her best friend's anger. "That son of a bitch!" she cried out.

"Oh, don't blame Neville's mother, Parv, the poor thing she didn't raise him, it was that grandmother of his, she gives me the creeps. And she has absolutely no taste in fashion!

"So what are you going to do?" asked Parvati.

"Why, Parv," said Lavender, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "write to Harry, of course."

And so she did. Harry wrote back, and, apologising he couldn't come over to comfort and console her in person, invited her to com and join him on his summer vacation. He'd pay the airfare, he promised, a ticket would wait for her in such and such travel agency, all she had to take care of was to bring herself, a bathing suit, and some sun lotion.

"Oh, Lav"," cried Parvati", "I'm sooo jealous!"

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Luna was ecstatic. Her friend (so he proclaimed himself) Harry Potter sent her a letter - with that beautiful bird of his, the Hermaphrodite Alisophia, although Harry insisted it was merely a snowy owl - saying he had found a Crumpled Horned Snorkack in New-Zealand, of all places, and invited her to come.

"We were looking in all the wrong places, daddy!" she said. Her father wasn't convinced, he was sure he had some clues and was on the right track to locate the elusive creatures right there in Scandinavia, but after four weeks of fruitless search, Luna was more then ready to give up. Especially in favour of Harry's Horned Snorkack. so she and her father decided to split up, he'll remain behind and pursue his own hints and traces, trying to go back on the trail, while she would travel south to Australia to look at Harry's finding. On her way, she stopped to visit her cousin, on her mother's side, again. Shtefi was rather disappointed to hear Luna was only visiting in the passing. It was so long since last they met and spent any time together, and they grew apart somewhat. Shtefi was looking forward to spending a lot of time with her cousin in a week or two, when her quest would end, and renew the old ties and bonds between them. She wasn't please to find out Luna only planned on staying the day, then travelling to the other side of the world. Then she thought about it, and decided to make the best of a bad situation, and told Luna she would be coming along with her to New-Zealand. Luna was very excited about it, just like her cousin has become, and wrote Harry to tell him the good news. Harry wrote back, saying it wouldn't take too long to visit the Snorkack in New-Zealand, and why won't the two of them come visit him in his summer retreat and they could enjoy the holidays together? When Shtefi heard that part, she really became ecstatic.

And to top it all, Harry sent them the international portkey tied with a ribbon to a new pet he gifted Luna, a cute little pug with slick, black fur and a constant pout.

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PLACEHOLDER FOR A MISSING SCENE - I CAN'T FIND MY NOTES OF THAT ONE. IF I DO, I WOULD ADD THEM HERE.

Sorry about that...

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Harry Potter smiled as he sat in his beach-chair, on his own privet beach. No more Voldemort, No more Fudge, no more Dumbledore, and many pretty girls. That was the life. He smiled at the two local beauties playing volleyball nearby, and went back to massaging the third beauty laying by his side. Later, all three would join him in his bathroom (and on his new waterbed). Yesterday it was two busty blonde tourist girls from Sweden, tomorrow would bring Fleur Delacour, who, after the truth about the Weasley family conspiracy came out, summarily dismissed the "batard", promising to find herself a "real man". And the next day? The world is wide, and wondrous.

Things were certainly taking a turn to the better for Harry James Potter.

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**A/N:**

To anyone who may wonder, no, Harry didn't really turn dark. The stuff he wrote Hermione about should be self-explanatory - he made it up, to deceive the Order, Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort. It would later come back to bite him in the next chapter. The stuff he told Kreacher he also made up, on the fly, solely for the purpose of gainning Kreacher's assistance when he had no one else to turn too. Those things he said served to motivate the demented elf, and, whatever works, you know.

I hope my spells make any sense. I couldn't find my Latin dictionary, and my Italian really, and I do mean really, sucks. "_Malato pesce brutto!_" means, I hope, "an ugly sick fish", while "_É molto olio!_" should mean "it's very oily" and might lead Dean to confuse "malato" with "molto" and think it's the same spell. I was thinking briefly of using "_Rotto sempra salciccia piccolo_" ( "ever broken little sausage"… I think,) and "_Per la mia moglie!_" (which I hope means "for my woman"), then thought better of it. an ever broken sausage would have a very different result then an ugly sick fish, and wouldn't have spread to the rest of the body. While you might use a sexual lubrican for yourwoman, often people use those - be them women or men - for their men... Anyway, if you speak Italian, and what I wrote makes no sense to you, please let me know, and I'll fix it. "Homo Erectus" is a kind of humanoid, one of our ancestors on the journey from ape to man. "Homo" means man, and "erectus" means, well, erect. When the remains of the Erectus were first discovered, scientists thought they finally found the missing link, no longer an ape, but a real humanoid, standing straight, walking on two legs. Later several earlier species were discovered, such as the "Homo Habilis" who walked the same way, and even the Australopithecus (Monkey of the South) and its subspecies walked on to legs. But the name stuck anyway. And I thought it would work here well. Besides, I always thought Snape wasn't really human and all, the greasy git…

I'm not sure I spelled "Kreacher" and "Snorkack" correctly, according to Harry Potter and the Order if the Phoenix. I don't have it right now before me for reference, so I can't verify it. If one of my readers would be so kind as to tell me if I am right or I am wrong, I would be grateful - so much so I'll write him into chapter 2!

The dialogue with Hermione about the life-debt was mostly written by Rorschach's Blot, with slight modifications and some additions by myself, posted here with his permission. I had other plans for Hermione, but then he wrote this (check my Favourite Authors section for a link to his profile, from there follow the link to his homepage, then search for Message #29798, titled "Debts Must be Paid" by Rorscach's Blot.) and I decided to use that instead.

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I left this in a "Work In Progress" status even though this story is more or less finished, because I'm planning on a sequel. Maybe two. I might want to continue this into Harry's sixth year, and I have a couple of ideas, but nothing tangible. I do, however, want foreclosure on the Dumbledore situation, and there are many more people to torment, torture and bash. So, coming next is: Aftermath: The Lives and Time of Albus Dumbledore.

Yes, yes, I know it should be "the life and times", not the other way around. No, this is not a typo. Just wait (patiently) and you will see. The meek shell inherit, so sayth the good book!

Enjoy, (and leave a kind review behind, I don't mind picking after you,)

stealacandy.

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**Review Replies:**

Reply to Vellouette:

Original Review (posted on: 2007-08-25):

Yes, Kreacher is spelled right.

I'm glad that at least Remus and Luna stood by Harry. I was worried for a minute there when the scene with Remus first started. I've scene a few stories lately that have Remus betraying Harry and I was hoping you weren't going to do that to. So, thank you, for having Remus on Harry's side.

I loved the scene that had Harry calling in Hermione's life debt. I loved that scene when I read it on CaerAzkaban.

I wish there was a way to add Daphne Greengrass, the Patil twins and maybe Narcissa and Tonks to Harry's growing harem. Please no Cho, I can't stand her. She's either always crying, gossiping or being one of the ones stealing Luna's property.

I don't think Remus should be without a woman for himself by the way, I just don't like Remus and Tonks as a couple. So I think Remus should end up with Emmeline Vance instead.

I know this is only the first chapter, but if the rest of the story is as good as this chapter then I hope you do right sequels to this story.

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Reply:

Actually, I was going to do that, only relented in the last moment, as I need Remus for later, in the sequel, for some confusion humor with Tonks, Which I artificialy manufactured for the sole reason of being allowed to put this on a Yahoo! group dedicated to Harry / Black family women ships. Luna I planned on from the start. And you'll note, neither she nor Remus for that matter actively stand by Harry in his hour of need, they're jus not set against him like the rest of the wolves. Err, wizards. And witches.

I had a lot of reservations about the life-debt thing, as I really don't see how it work. It certainly didn't work in canon, so I'm inclined to think the whole idea is just another load of trap Dumbledore invented (like that love conquers all thing he came up after the ministry fight in OotP.) However, that way I got someone to deal with Draco, and even Pansy on the side, without me going out of the way to make it happen, not to mention getting Hermione to turn herself intp a beaver, rather then Harry forcibly doing it to her, rather appealed to me.

As you might notice, unlike some of my other fics, the harem notion is only implied in this story. As it is, Harry just fools around, he's become a playboy. As such, he only hooks up with blonds. Thus, the Patil twins are out of the picture. I don't know about Daphne Greengrass, but right now I can't see it happen. I have a prety good idea of where I'm taing this story, and she doesn't feature in it. Unless I come with a good reason to put her in, other then "let's get horny and throw another sexy chick at Harry's feet to have his (and our) way with her", a really good reason, something that contributes to the story and the plot and is witty and funny too, or someone else suggests such a reason to me (hint, hint), Daphne would be left outside this one.

Rest assured, Cho will be left out of it as well. At least out of Harry's pens. (pardon my pun). She might end up as the butt of one of Harry' srevenge plots, however. For once, she'll have a reason to cry. Though I'll have to come up with some good stuff for her to steal from Luna, preferably something that has to do with Harry, and then with som even better stuff for Harry to replace it with when he's out for some old-fashioned payback time.

Narcissa Malfoy is dead, though. I thought I made that clear. No coming back from the dead for her, either. Thjough I wonder if I could turn her into a ghost, haunting the Malfoy manor (which Harry inherited from her, which is why she obviously is dead) bedrooms... I wonder what may happen. She is a blond, after all.

Tonks and Harry will shack up together, eventualy, though I'm not sure either would appreciate it when they realize that. Like I said, I'm planing a confusion slapastick humor scene a la my "Power of Polyjuice" story for that coupling. Tonks and Remus will be together, at least for a while, like I said, that's the only reason I didn't make him a bad guy. That, and it would spell trouble with the story's credability and his relationship with Sirius. I don't know much about Emmeline Vance. Isn't she the Order member that got killed in the beginning of HBP? Well, I don't think this fic will feature her, but if it does it would be in a minor role at best, and more likely then not she'll get pulled into one of Harry's revenge plots against the Order members.

About the sequels: I more or less wrote half of chapter 2: The Lives and time of Albus Dumbledore, which would be much shorter. I still have to write the rest, and add some secondary themes for comic relief (for instance, the continued adventures of Preacher (no, that's not a typo) the house-elf.). Then I'll have to type it all. I have a good picture of how chapter 3, the 6th year fic should look like, but it'll be some time before I get to it - I have four story-lines on "Plot-Bunnies" I have to finish writing (and in some cases even begin posting), then I have over a hundred pages of Tommy's Harem waiting to be typed, I got the last chapter of "Power of Polyjuice" typed and edited already, waiting only for the two chapters before it to be writte nand typed, which I realy should get to, before I forget wher I was going with them, then I have two more multi-chaptered fics, "Kuru" and "Potion Ingredients", a pure Snape-torture, BTW, to finish writing, typing, compiling and editing. Then I have several more Plot-Bunnies I have been researching for, and a couple more I more or less wrote up from one end to the othetr in my mind's mind, and I have to write those as well. Then of course, we shouldnt forget, I have to wake up mornings and go to uni. Then i have to go to work. Then I have to do homework, hous-hold work, see things, do people, the whole shebang. So don't hold your breath for chapter 3. Chapter 4 is so far in the future I only have tha vaguest ideas about how it should look like. I'm open for suggestions, though. (For instance, that would be a good place for you to push Daphne Greengrass in. But only if you make her blonde!)

Now that I'm done ranting, i'll leave you with this note, and just let me add my thanks for your supporting review. If the rest of your reviews would be as good as this chapter's one, then I hope myself I would be writing many sequels to this story...

Yours,

stealacandy

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Reply to jacee2u

Original Review (posted on: 2007-08-27):

By the way, I loved your Electrifying Epiphany. The only thing I have to ask is, was the iron .(). still in the socket? If so, Albus would have quickly joined Tommy in the ash pile.

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Reply:

mmm... You'll note the paper said Dumbledore subotaged the power suply to several quarters of the city/ The muggles never find any signs fir Voldemort ever being there - the ashes were of a magical naturem somewhat akin to, say, ashes from a phoenix on a burning day. Only Voldemort doesn't rise from the ashes. (or does he?...) So the muggles think Dumbledore sabotaged it, but in fact it was Voldemort. By the time Dumbledore arrives there, the whole things got short-circuited and burnt, it doesn't transport electricity anymore, so Dumbledore can easily removethe iron .(). .

Also, like I said, Voldemort died in a magical fire, because his body was magical, and we know magic and lectricity don't react well together. Now contrary, perhaps, to popular belief, electicution doesn't burn you. I know a guy who was hit directly. It was in the days before they started burying the power line underground, and they were strung on high poles. Now, the man was out in the rain,soaking wet, and such a pwer line gets cut in the wind and the exposed end falls and lands on him. Well, the man is a parapleg, has been in a wheel-chair for the past thirty five years, but otherwise he's completely functional. He even continues his practice as a doctor. Poor man. His son, upon his dismissal from military service, decided to use the few weeks before he started college to learn how to parachute. His first time jumping from a plane, the parachute didn't open, and the reserve one only partialy. He hit the ground in high velocity, and has been in a coma ever since - for te past decade and a half or so, maybe more, I'm not sure. ANyway, my point is, electricution shouldn't burn you down to a pile of ashes. I read a book about the industrial side of the Jewish Holocaust, and beside Nazies making a fortune out of this and out of that, how they made the railroad system work and how their construction companies operated, I also read about the ovens, or crematoria, they used. It takes an enormus amount of heat to burn a human being into a pile of ashes, and even the Nazies would still get a lot of bone parts intact, and it took about half an hour to burn a couple (later they did three at a time) of corpses. Which is what we have to thank for even having Jews alive today, as their capacity for mass-killings of Jews was much larger then their capacity to both transport the living Jews to their place of slaughter, and their ability to get rid of the remains. Otherwise, they would have been done with the Jews long before the end of the war, and have moved on to other people, particulary those of Slavic origins.

So Dumbledore wouldn' have joined Voldemort as a pile of ashes on the ground either way.

Although, I have to wonder about all those stories about how, when the American government murders murderers in electric chairs, sometimes they smoke... and not the kind of a last request "I want a smoke" smoke, either.

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Reply to Meteoricshipyards

Original Review (posted on: 2007-08-28):

Nice. Loved how Harry's getting back at the people who took his stuff had much bigger impact on the war and the people who were using or attacking him.

Poor Neville. Very few stories have him betraying Harry. Well, that does make yours rather unique.

Loved the Augusta-Frank confrontation. Very "Mr. Black"ish.

Thanks for creating this.

Tom A.

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Reply:

Thanks, that's high praise, coming from you. I loved that Supervillan camp thing, by the way.

I don't like stories that use - again, and again, and again - the same old and worn-out plot devices, thus, if I use one myself, I tend to parody it and try to be original and fill the story with new twists. So your approval means a lot to me. Boosts my ego, if nothing elss...

Harry didn't think too far ahead. He had a simple plan. Get back at those who betrayed him, at least those he can get to at the moment, and use them in order to fool Voldemort into accidentaly commiting suicide. If he hits a snag along the way, (which he ofted did,) he adopts. Somehow, both parts odf the plan worked so well and so much better then he ever dared to hope... And, he got an harem, too!

As for Neville, I don't know why people would write everyone else betraying Harry, but not him. Made no sense to me, so I wrote him in, as well. And do't pity him to much. Now, he's part of the earth, so close to the plants he loves. He wanted Harry's greenhouse, now he's part of the world's bigest greenhouse - nature itself. Although dropping into laba doesn't appeal to me much, I must say. Then again, i'm all urban, don't like nature much anyway, other then on my T.V.'s screen. And I had it unplugged aseveral years ago, so I don't even get much of that.Give me a small city with a couple of million people in it everytime.

s.a.c. (pronounced as "suck"!

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Reply to jabarber69

Original Review (posted on: 2007-08-28):

Hey great story, and a so inspiring way for ole voldie and dumbydork to go as well as the deathtweaters. But hey you should of made gin also a slave with her life debt from the chamber then set up both of them as prositutes to the purebloods in hogsmeade, hehehehehe or better yet have them become his private naked girl/house elves: you know serving him and his guest naked and doing the cleaning etc...

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Reply:

That's sick, man. I don't do that. And I don't like stories that do.

Although, i'm contemplating writing a Voldemort does Mpreg ficlet rioght now.

Anyway, Hermione is a beaver, not a sex slave. Someone did say something about some connotations of that word in English slang... I'm not a native English speaker, though, so I wouldn't know.

Ginny is trapped inside a 'Ginny-lamp'. What would become of her? You shold wait and see. In the meantime, check my "Plot-Bunnies" story. In a few days I'm going to post "Ginny in a Bottle" over there. I'm working on chapter 9 now, "Ginny" is going into chapter 10.

s.a.c. 

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